


Mardi Gras.

by sturidge



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-18
Updated: 2013-02-18
Packaged: 2017-11-29 17:56:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/689815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sturidge/pseuds/sturidge





	Mardi Gras.

> **Prompt:** hand grenades, vending machines, finger nails.

* * *

 

It all started when Stiles got a hold of a hand grenade.

I mean, not a _real_ hand grenade, that would have been awkward. A hand grenade is a very, very popular drink in New Orleans and, as such, could not have gone under his radar upon his visit to the place – which just happened to be during Mardi Gras. Which was also during his birthday.

Yes, you can imagine the mess.

Much to Stiles total displeasure, he was born on 13 February, about two hours before Valentine’s Day. Back when his mum was alive, she used to tell him that he was her present to Sheriff Stilinski (which was now more of a curse than anything else). He was usually not one to celebrate the date, especially because Beacon Hills has just about NOTHING in the area of entertaining, except a couple of underground parties and a gay bar, but those were both ruled out since the Kanima incident, for bad luck’s sake.

But when he finally reached the age of 18, which just happened to be during Mardi Gras – as previously mentioned - Scott decided to turn that around. Lydia’s sister was living in New Orleans now and since they were in good terms, why not make something out of it?

And that was how Scott, Stiles, the pack, Lydia, Danny and Allison got squeezed together in a car, crashing on the floor of Layla for those four days.

Already on the second day, Lydia’s big sis took them out for a drink. “Yes, the legal age is 21, but if no one is looking, who’ll mind?” she had said, pushing them inside the first bar available. Wearing the best fantasies they could come up with in that short time, no one really complained.

There, Stiles was introduced to the joys of hand grenades.

That in itself is not a bad thing, right? It wasn’t the first time he drank or anything. It started to get out of hand, however, when he met a stranger in the bar, wearing nothing but a wolf mask and a pair of jeans, who offered to pay him another round. “Wolves turn me on”, he had said at some point. Stiles was wearing his red hood and trying to pass as a genderbent Little Red, so that was a given.

The stranger offered to take him home, but the night was young, and technically so were they. Instead, he dragged the wolf to the darkest corner of the bar, where he found himself pressed against a vending machine – his worst enemy. There was some irony to be noted there.

With Lydia and Jackson gone to God knows where, Layla with a blonde chick on the dance floor, Erica and Boyd making out outside and Isaac, Danny chatting with a stud on the bar and Allison and Scott off on the weirdest three-way ever seen (he was pretty sure McCall was on the middle), no one important really paid attention to what he was doing.

As the Wolf slid his pants down, Stiles found himself thinking about Derek. It was weird – Hale had never really given hints things could work out between them, being on the constant state of broodiness as he was – but being with his legs around another guy’s hips felt unnatural.

Especially because the guy refused to take off his mask.

He didn’t remember much of what happened after the guy opened his zipper. The only thing he remember was leaving a big hickey on the guy’s neck, his fingernails scratching all of his back. There was a lot of pain, a lot of trusts and a lot of moaning involved as well. He was pretty sure he would never see Little Red Riding Hood the same way again.

When he woke up next morning, Stiles was wearing nothing but a cum-soaked underwear, on the carpet of Layla’s house, right next to a fully-naked Scott, who was still slowly humping Jackson’s leg in his sleep.

There was a lot of awkward silences that morning. Some of them couldn’t sit very well, either.

On their way back, there was sort of an unspoken agreement that no one would talk about whatever had happened. He was all up for that, up until they’d reached Beacon Hills, where they were greeted by a very less-grumpier-than-usual Derek.

The first thing Stiles noticed was a big red mark around Derek’s neck. When he took his shirt - because that happened often - he could still distinguish the nail marks on his back.

No one would have guessed Sheriff Stilinski would send Derek of all people after them to make sure they didn’t do something stupid – like, y’know, hook up with a stranger dressed as a wolf in a bar. Stiles’ father just knew Layla was a very… liberal girl in certain senses.

He just had no idea how much Derek was, too.


End file.
